Firmament: Machiavellian

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Firmament: Machiavellian Page 18

by J. Grace Pennington


  I took a deep breath and forced my body to stop trembling. Speed was vital. I reached for my wristcom, then remembered that Pearson had taken mine.

  “Can I use your wristcom?” I blurted at the young man. When he hesitated, I held out my hand and said, “It’s urgent.”

  He pulled it off his wrist and handed it to me without a word, and I dialed engineering with shaking fingers. “McMillan, seal off the bridge and cancel all sub-command clearance.”

  My heart pounded against my ribs. He had no reason to obey me, but he knew that I was one of the only people who were in on Guilders’ plan. Would he trust me?

  For one second the elevator whirred uninterrupted, then his voice came through my com. “Bridge sealed, and clearance canceled.”

  I exhaled. “On my way to explain. Stop the ship, find out where N— Captain Holloway is.”

  Silence, then as the elevator stopped, his voice came again. “He’s on the bridge, Miss Lloyd. It’s sealed off.”

  I handed the wristcom back to the wide-eyed mate as we reached E-Deck. Even as I sprinted out of the elevator and into engineering, Napoleon’s voice came over the intercom. “Excuse me, my dear engineer, I believe there has been a malfunction or mistake of some kind. My navigator keeps informing me that his clearance for the console has been canceled.”

  I paused a few meters from McMillan, and stood panting, looking at him with wide eyes and heart pounding from exertion.

  He frowned, then paced to the nearest intercom, pressed the button, and spoke into it. “Standard procedure when there is suspected mutiny, my dear Captain Holloway.” The sarcasm in his voice was as dry as a dehydrated energy bar.

  “Mutiny? Oh, my dear sir, you misunderstand me…”

  “I don’t believe so, sir.” And without further comment, McMillan ended the conversation with another push of a button. Then he turned to me, and for a second we just looked at each other.

  My leg throbbed painfully and I inhaled sharply, realizing I’d been holding my breath.

  “They lied,” I blurted out, trying to figure out the fastest way to explain. “I heard Pearson altering the records so they wouldn’t be implicated… they want the substance for themselves, it isn’t for us or the planet at all. He knew I’d tell the Captain, and went to take over the bridge, I think.”

  McMillan muttered something under his breath, then spoke aloud. “Good work, Miss Lloyd. We’re checkmated now… but what next?”

  Everyone else in the room was silent, and all eyes were fixed on us. I looked at each crewmember in quick succession, and easily picked out the one navy jumpsuit from the group of green uniforms. I pointed to the Copernicus technician, and McMillan didn’t wait for me to speak. He darted towards the man, who jumped away at the same moment. With marked precision, the rest of the engineering team circled ahead of the rogue worker and closed in on him, allowing McMillan to grab him by the collar.

  “To the brig,” he commanded, tossing the man carelessly towards two security officers, who grabbed him by both arms. Then he hurried to a nearby computer and gave its screen several taps and slides before reaching for his wristcom. “Mr. Guilders?” he spoke into it.

  Guilders’ voice replied promptly. “In sickbay. What’s going on?”

  “There are three Copernicus members loose in the ship. I’ll send you their locations, so you can dispatch the nearest security officers to find them and bring them to the brig. I’ve sealed most of them in their quarters.

  “Yes sir,” Guilders replied, and the call was terminated.

  McMillan turned to me. “Do you know what his plan is?”

  “His original plan was to gain the substance he was after, then escape with his personnel and leave us to our fate. I don’t know what he’ll do now.”

  As if he had heard us, Napoleon’s voice came over the intercom again.

  “May I remind you, my dear commander, that I have your captain hostage up here, and that I possess a blaster?”

  McMillan pressed the reply button with one knuckle and replied icily. “Certainly, my dear captain, if I may remind you that you had it in your power to harm Miss Lloyd, but you let her escape unscathed.”

  “Ah, but that would have been at best an unnecessary move. No, I prefer not to harm people, my dear sir, but that does not mean that I will not do it.”

  All McMillan said in reply was, “Let me speak with my Captain.”

  “I’m afraid I cannot allow that.”

  “Then I’m afraid this conversation is over.” And McMillan ended the call again.

  But the face he turned to me was by no means as confident as his words had sounded. Would Napoleon really hurt the Captain?

  “Wait…” The word came from my throat slowly, as a new thought made a tiny shiver run through my body like a zap of electricity. “Where’s Doctor Pearson?”

  McMillan took another look at the panel beneath him, then uttered an exclamation. “Port airlock.”

  “But he doesn’t have clearance…”

  He pushed past me and rushed to the security command console, gripping it to swing himself around to the front. “You can’t revoke manual airlock control.” The security officer stepped aside as the engineer began frantically pressing his fingertips to the console.

  We weren’t in the galactic center yet. Surely he couldn’t—

  I froze.

  People proud of their heritage and intent on helping their people didn’t change their name and erase their past. Did they?

  Not waiting to hear more from McMillan, I limped to the intercom he’d just left, wincing each time I put pressure on my left leg. When I reached the intercom, I jammed my thumb onto the smooth plastic button.

  “Napoleon!” I yelled into it.

  His voice sounded closer to frustration than I’d ever heard it. “I’m afraid I have no time to discuss this situation with you, my dear, perhaps some other—”

  “Captain Holloway, you were disappointed that I wasn’t consistent.”

  Silence. Then, “Yes.”

  “Well, you’re right. I wasn’t. I was wrong. And I’m sorry.”

  The silence hung heavy with electricity and the whirring of engines. “I don’t see…”

  “But you’re wrong in thinking that you’re consistent.”

  This time he didn’t break the silence. I paused, then went on.

  “You think that the end justifies the means. But every end… is a means… and every means… is another end. When you break it down, everything—end, means, action, thought, word—is a choice.”

  The electronic reverberations of my voice into the speaker reminded me that my voice was being heard over the whole ship. The desperation that had driven me drained away, siphoned by the image of over a hundred people hearing my words, and I began to tremble uncontrollably. I leaned my shoulder against the wall and forced my voice to go on, trying not to think about it.

  “I believe that every choice is either right or wrong, because right is decided by God. It’s… not always easy to figure out. But there is a right. You think that... right is qualified by… results. But results are always changing… there is no black and white in your view.”

  “My dear…” his voice began, but I cut him off, my tones still quaking.

  “The truth is… Doctor Pearson is much more consistent than either of us have been.”

  I could almost hear his eyebrows raising. “Doctor Pearson?”

  “Consistently wrong.”

  A voice, McMillan’s, broke in behind me. “He’s gone.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t see what you mean, Miss Lloyd,” Napoleon said, and his voice had a peculiarly hollow sound.

  “I think Doctor Pearson lied to you, Captain Holloway. He didn’t want to help anyone with that money. He just wanted the money and the prestige. You were his ticket to getting it. But now he’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Alarm now. Almost panic.

  Gone. Yes, gone. Off the ship. I’d run out of words, and was left shaking by the
intercom. He was getting angry. What would he do? Maybe I’d just angered him enough to kill the Captain.

  “Miss Lloyd?” I heard a voice echo, sounding like it came from the other side of a wall.

  I felt dizzy. I blinked, trying to clear my head. Stay strong. Breathe. It’ll be okay. Guilders said so.

  Strong hands gripped my shoulders and lowered me gently to the ground. McMillan’s voice again, still distant. “Are you all right, Miss Lloyd? You’re very pale. Lie down a moment.”

  I let myself be laid down, and just kept still, breathing. The throbbing from my leg seemed to cover my whole body now. My hands tingled, and a whining buzz slowly grew in my head. I breathed, trying to make it go away.

  The next voice I heard was the Captain’s, high above me, so high, and he was saying something, saying that they could open the doors now. What doors? Was he coming?

  I blinked, and shook my head from side to side. My heart sank with disappointment in myself. Why was I disappointed? Because I’d almost fainted from nervousness?

  My leg seemed too big. It kept throbbing, though the pain had started to turn numb.

  Commotion rose in a slow cacophony around me as my head cleared and I felt the blood rush back into my brain. I took deep breaths.

  I was laying on the floor in engineering. People were talking and working all around me.

  The touch of a gentle, calloused hand rested against my forehead. “Andi?”

  I looked up into the dear face above me and reached my arms up, whispering, “Doctor…”

  He put his thin arms around me and pulled me up and close to him. I wrapped my arms weakly around his neck and whispered next to his ear, “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” he whispered back.

  “You were right.”

  He pulled me a little closer, and said softly, “I think we both were.”

  Chapter XXV

  “This is a bit of a switch,” August’s soft voice joked.

  I grinned up at him ruefully. He sat on the edge of my cot in sickbay, smiling down at me with the smallest spark of fun in his brown eyes, while my EKG beeped steadily on a monitor behind him.

  “I’m fine,” I insisted. “I was just a bit woozy after being knocked out, locked in a crate, losing blood from cutting my leg, and trying to reason with a brilliant psycho in front of a hundred and twelve people.”

  “I suppose you can be forgiven for that,” he reassured.

  I managed a giggle, then just breathed in the silence for a moment.

  A faint beeping that wasn’t quite in time with mine led me to turn to where Lee lay a few cots away from me, his eyes closed, his arm slung tightly to his chest.

  “Does the Captain know yet?”

  August shook his head. “I think your dad is telling him now.”

  “And… Captain Holloway?”

  “In the brig, along with all the other Copernicus personnel. I don’t know what’s going to happen with them.”

  I nodded, and let my eyelids droop.

  August just stayed seated quietly beside me, and I tried not to let myself think. I could think later. Right now I needed to rest—just rest. My leg no longer throbbed, it was just numb from the regeneration process. Otherwise, it was as good as new.

  I don’t know how long we stayed quietly together before I heard the sickbay door slide open. I opened my eyes all the way, and turned to see the Doctor walking in. He stepped through the doorway, stepped aside, and let someone behind him pass in.

  The Captain.

  He stood still just inside the room, his eyes on the cot where his brother lay.

  I looked over at Lee, whose eyes were now open, watching the Captain in silence.

  The Captain said nothing. He strode towards the cot, as straight and tall as ever, with an expressionless face. We all watched him; the Doctor, August, Lee, and I; watched him make his way towards his brother.

  At last he reached the cot and stood looking down at its occupant. He reached up, gripped the brim of his cap, and whipped it off his head in one smooth movement. For a moment he just stood there and stared.

  At last, Lee said one soft word. “Harrison…”

  Without warning, the Captain dropped to his knees beside the cot, propped his arms on the edge of it, laid his head down, and wept.

  For a moment, we all just stared. Then Lee slowly lifted a hand and laid it on his older brother’s head.

  I had never seen the Captain cry before. I watched, transfixed, until I felt August’s cold hand tug at mine, then I looked to see the Doctor beckoning to us sharply from the doorway. A little ashamed of myself, I let August keep my hand in his, and stood up. We made our way quietly out of sickbay, and left the two brothers alone.

  *****

  I didn’t hear about the decision until it was ready to be executed. This wasn’t surprising. I had only attended two official command meetings in my life, and those were part of Napoleon’s scheme, which made it all the more unlikely that it would happen again. Of course Guilders and the Doctor had been right. He’d only wanted August and I there to promote his scheme by our more youthful emotion—and yes, foolishness.

  “Will it all be off the record, then?” I asked Guilders as we stood waiting with a group of about twenty outside the port airlock.

  He nodded, his expression as calm and steady as ever. “Yes. The same circumstances that caused us to lose tracking are the circumstances that caused some of the records to be lost. Quite true, and quite enough information for now.”

  “So you’re back on?”

  I saw the slightest smile in his eyes, under the shadow of his bushy eyebrows. “According to the records, I was never off, Miss Andi.”

  It was a joke, for Guilders, and I grinned.

  My smile was erased promptly as Napoleon and his men—sans Lee and Pearson—approached down the hall, the group guarded on all sides by armed security officers. They looked harmless enough, in their blue jumpsuits, with their faces averted and their arms by their sides. Most innocent-looking of all was their captain, in his silver and blue uniform, his cap on his head, standing straight but not tall, his smooth face bearing the same courteous and pleasant expression it always had.

  He smiled at each of our crew as he passed. No one smiled back.

  I was at the end of the line, right next to the airlock door, alongside the Doctor. Lee and the Captain stood across from me. Not a word was said from either party as they trooped between us and down the hall to the airlock.

  The group was stopped in front of me as the Captain intercommed inside for the technician to engage the airlock and prepare the transport.

  As his voice spoke the order, Napoleon turned to me and smiled.

  I couldn’t decide whether I should smile back.

  “My dear Captain,” he said pleasantly, still looking at me, “I cannot say I am pleased with this course of events. But I am entirely understanding of your decision. Indeed, I am certain that in your place, my actions would be exactly the same as—”

  His words were interrupted as the airlock door slid open with a groaning whoosh, revealing a moored transport at the center access.

  “I’m sorry that we part this way, Captain Holloway,” the Captain said with the utmost courtesy, though there was an edge of coldness to his voice. “But as you said, you can understand my position.”

  “Just Holloway, please,” the little man remonstrated. “And please, say no more, my dear Captain. Do accept my apology for any inconvenience we have put upon yourself or your crew.”

  The Captain ignored this, and said, “There are enough provisions to last you long enough to get within range of any number of com towers. From there you can call for help, if you need it, or else go on to wherever you choose to go.”

  “It’s very kind of you, my dear Captain. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  His dark eyes held a twinkle as he looked at me again, then he marched forward into the airlock, his men following him silently. The guards followed
them as far as the opening to the transport, and then stopped, and allowed them to enter one by one. Napoleon stepped aside, and let each of his men pass into the craft, then he strolled in himself, and the guards retreated back into the hall with the rest of us.

  We all watched and listened as the engines revved up. Napoleon raised his hand and called out something that we could not hear, then the transport door closed, and the airlock door slid shut with a whooshing bang in front of us.

  A slight rumble, and the smallest jolt of the floor beneath us, more like a shiver than anything else, and I knew they were gone.

  We just stood there for a moment, then the Captain called into his wristcom, “What did he say, King?”

  King’s voice replied slowly. “I believe he said, ‘On s’engage et puis on voit.’”

  “What in the galaxy does that mean?” the Doctor asked.

  “’One jumps into the fray and then figures out what to do next,” the Captain translated. “A favorite motto of Napoleon’s, if I recall correctly.”

  Something sparked inside me, and I felt guilty. I didn’t really miss him, did I?

  The Doctor broke the loaded silence by grumbling, “Well, I’m hungry. Lunch?” He slipped his arm through mine.

  “Okay.” I smiled at him.

  As we were about to board the elevator, a young security officer came running up to me from the other end of the hall. “Miss Lloyd?” he questioned.

  “Yes?”

  He held something out to me. “Captain Holloway left this in his cell, someone told me it belonged to you.”

  My eyes widened, and I took it from him delicately. Elasson’s cap.

  “It is mine, thank you.”

  The Doctor recognized it at once. “How did he get that?” he asked as we got into the elevator.

  “I’m not sure,” I replied.

  We rode up to B-Deck in silence, then the Doctor stepped off and headed towards the mess hall.

  I followed, more slowly, running my fingers over the smooth, textured surface of the woven cap.

  We will come back, Elasson. I promise. If God will help us, we will come.

  I could have saved him with my silence, but this was better. God had brought us through this maze safer than I could have imagined, just as He had time and time again in our previous adventures.

 

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